


The Accomplice

by ShadowMage



Series: The Turning Wheel: An Elder Scrolls fan series [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Class Issues, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Dark Brotherhood Questline, Domestic Violence, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, The Arena, Thieves Guild, Thieves Guild Questline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowMage/pseuds/ShadowMage
Summary: Uma is a thief. She's scum. She's a coward. She's everything that her precious pin-pushing City Guard father despises about the 'lower classes' that he and his wife have to 'control.'Well, you know what? Uma doesn't care. Uma is her own person. And Uma will one day become far greater than her father could ever dream possible.





	The Accomplice

The bow quivered in Uma's hand, the string digging into her finger.

She let out a sharp breath and let it loose, and with a 'twang', the arrow flew, the wooden target splintering as it thudded into the bullseye. She let out a whoop of joy, jumping up in the air as Puny Ancus began applauding.

'Perfect shot!' Ancus beamed at her, and Uma took a step towards him, meaning to embrace him, but he took a step back and shook his head. 'Ah, uh, maybe not...ticks, remember?' He scratched a spot around his stomach for emphasis, and laughed again, embarassed. Uma gave an awkward chuckle and lowered her arms, turning back to look at the target. It was a rough, jagged model of a person, and they had scrawled a circular target in the centre of it's chest. She and Ancus had assembled it from old wooden planks that fell off the crates loaded onto the ships at the Waterfront, and she'd taken an inkwell from her mother's writing desk to paint the target. The bow in her hand belonged to the City Guard, and she'd 'borrowed' it, along with a quiver of arrows, from the nearby watchtower using her father's key. The wall surrounding the target was pierced by holes, some still with pieces of arrow lodged inside them after they'd gotten stuck.

Standing there, looking at the arrow lodged right in the heart of the dummy, her fingers sore from pulling the bowstring, Uma felt like a real archer. There before her lay her mortal nemesis, felled in one swoop by Uma Martinil, the Rogue of the Night, an archer and acrobat of such skill to rival the legendary Gray Fox. 

She maybe didn't look the part: short, auburn hair which hung loose down to her shoulders, parted in the middle to expose her fair skinned, Imperial born face to the world. She had large, blue eyes, as dark as the deepest seas, framed by a cutely pointed nose and softly curving cheekbones. She looked more 'cute' or 'pretty' than dark and mysterious...but then, wasn't that the perfect cover?

'Um...is that all of the arrows? Because...we might need to clean up.'

Uma blinked and waved a hand over the quiver she'd slung over her shoulder. Lo and behold, there were no more arrows. That bullseye had been the last of the lot, and looking over the mess of splintered arrow shafts and heads, she felt a small knot tighten in her stomach. She'd have to sneak back into the watchtower and somehow put the empty quiver somewhere it wouldn't look out of place...which in itself would be really tricky, because it was standard procedure to have every quiver filled with fifty arrows. 

How did she know that? The sound of heavy boots hitting stone heralded the answer.

'UMA. WHAT are you DOING?'

Ancus made a whimpering sound and stepped back, looking at her fearfully. Uma gave him a quick nod, swallowing, and he turned, scuttling away between the crates. Her heart pounding, Uma turned, swishing her hair to the side in an attempt to look smooth, and looked into the face of an angry Imperial Watch Guard. The sunlight glinted off the sharp angles of his armour, the face mainly obscured by shadow, but she knew exactly who it was.

'Hi, Dad. I was just out with my friend.'

A heavy armoured gauntlet came out of nowhere and seized the front of her shirt, nastily close to her throat. She stifled a squeak and gritted her teeth. 'What? Is THAT not allowed now, too? What the fuck is wrong with that?'

'I've TOLD you, time and again, beggars are not to be befriended. They are to be fed and watched.' Her father leaned in closer, hissing furiously 'You KNOW they help thieves. What do I need to do to make you act properly?'

'Act properly? Not treat them like people, you mean.'

People close by were looking at each other and whispering, and Uma really did not need that right now. It was one thing to get scolded like this at home, where at least she had the freedom to bite back. Here, if she struggled, she was only inviting harsher punishment. 

You know what, though? Fuck it. She was in trouble already, what was the worst her dad could do?

'At least they're people. You're just a fucking monster who only cares about following laws. Not about people. Even your own fucking family.'

That got a gasp from the invisible onlookers, but that was blown away when that gauntlet slammed into the side of her head. An ache rippled through her skull and her neck pitched to the side, her ear ringing. She felt him grab at her arm and then she was being dragged, her feet stumbling over themselves as she numbly followed, blinking to get the dots out of her vision. It was about what she'd expected: it was actually a pretty common technique for the City Guard to use when apprehending criminals. Somewhere inside her head, she smirked...although that was quickly gone when it became apparent thinking hurt.

A while passed, of blinking and stumbling and an increasing numbness in her arm, and then she heard a door open. She was pushed inside and finally her arm was released, and she got a FIERCE case of pins and needles as the blood finally flowed back through. She hissed in pain and massaged it, looking up at her father as he pulled it shut behind him. 'Way to prove me wrong.' She spat, venomously. He heaved a heavy sigh and reached up, pulling his helmet off. His sweaty, reddish hair almost blended into his sweaty red face.

'Uma, if you act like a criminal I have to treat you like one. I can't go around upholding the law for all except those I choose. Imagine what would happen if everyone did?'

Gods she was so sick of that line. She heard it at least twice a day, like clockwork. 'Oh, so hanging out with the beggars is a criminal offence? What next: looking at a married woman?' She sneered. 'I've seen you smile at old Jensine in the Market District: is that an offence, too?'

'It's the association! All the beggars are on a watchlist as contacts for thieves!' Her father knocked on the wall for emphasis, the metal sound ringing through the room. 'And, as I thought would be obvious, you stole a bow and quiver of arrows from the watch tower! THAT is an ACTUAL criminal offence: you could be arrested! I'm already bending the law for you, Uma, don't push it any further.'

'Bending?' Uma fluttered her eyelashes, putting on a 'wise woman' voice that dripped with sarcasm. 'But I thought the laws were sacred, unchanging, all-powerful?'

Her father clenched his jaw. 'I'm BENDING them because I happen to know you took them for practice. I also KNOW' he said in a warning tone 'that you were GOING to return them. Weren't you?'

Uma shrugged. 'Well, maybe if you'd let me buy a bow for myself-'

'Weren't. You.'

Oh for fucks sake. She wasn't a fucking child, or mass murderer. Her heart was slamming against her ear, a dull ringing underlying everything she heard. Let her buy the fucking bow.

'If I had my own bow-'

Her father took a step forwards, his fists clenched. 'You will go to the watch tower-'

'-I wouldn't sneak anywhere-'

'-You will return the bow and the quiver-'

'-Or what?'

Uma looked at him, her own fists clenched, her hands shaking. Her father was silent for a moment.

'Or I will arrest you.'

It was a miracle the air between them didn't ignite. Both gazed into each other's eyes, locked in an invisible war. He would arrest her. Uma did not doubt that for a second. Her own father would arrest her, would literally drag her to the Imperial Prison and lock the door. He would uphold the law, as he had done ever since she had been born, as he had tried to make her do since she could hear him speak.

Not lowering her gaze, Uma reached up to her shoulder, shrugging off the quiver. Her father didn't blink. She raised the bow in one hand, the quiver hanging from her wrist, taking the bow in both hands. In a swift, elegant motion, she raised her knee and slammed the bow onto it, snapping it neatly in two. Her heart hammering, she carelessly tossed the pieces to the floor, and took hold of the quiver. A heavy gauntlet seized it and ripped it from her grasp, her father tossing it aside as he came forwards.

She ducked under the first swipe, but the second went into her ribs and she crumpled as the breath left her. She was dimly aware of her father roughly hoisting her onto his back, arm wrapped around her spine, with her legs dangling down his front while her head hung limply against his back. Her chest hurt, her head buzzed, her ear throbbed and her heart was practically exploding with each pump. The warm, gentle sunlight of the outside world broke upon her, and then she was moving, a sharp line of cold metal digging into her belly with each thundering step that her father took. She fixed her gaze on the glinting sunlight of his armour, trying to get her breath back.

The rattling of her chest nearly distracted her from the change. Everything around her became dark, the air suddenly became cold. Stale. It was with a horrible lurch in her stomach that she realized they'd already reached their destination.

Her view flipped and she fell, landing painfully on her backside. She cried out, and lashed out as she felt a pair of heavy metal hands clench around her, running down her. Her foot connected with rough stone and she yelped, pain shooting up from her toe, and then the hands retreated. There was a creaking of metal, and then the sound of a lock.

Uma blinked aside the tears she hadn't known were in her eyes just in time to see her father retreat up the stairs, leaving her locked in her prison cell.


End file.
